Time's Fool
by vanityfair
Summary: Hermione uses a Time Turner to go back and change Snape's past. But his future is her present and Time is a fickle thing. Not your average Time Turner fic I hope!
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: JKR owns the Harry Potter characters within. Audrey Niffenegger's book _Time Traveller's Wife_ is my inspiration for the concepts regarding time and time travel. If you haven't read this book, then please do (right after reading and reviewing this story of course!)

**Part One**

_Look not mournfully into the past. It comes not back again. Wisely improve the present. It is thine. Go forth to meet the shadowy future, without fear. _  
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

She finds the Time Turner in a dusty old thrift shop she had wandered into while Harry and Ron drool over the latest racing broom. Her hand hesitates over it; she thought they had all been destroyed. She ventures to guess that the owner of the shop doesn't even know it's here, tucked away in a moldy old box with what looked like some old costume jewelry.

She hasn't used one since her disastrous third year. Flashes of fatigue, the constant scrambling to make sure she wasn't seen, and desperate attempts to remember where she was supposed to be when haunts her even as she stares down at the precious item before her.

Many times, she had wondered why she hadn't used it in the evening to finish her homework or catch a few extra hours of sleep. Surely, she could have used an empty classroom to do her Potions essays while her other self sat laughing while Harry and Ron invented dire deaths for their Divination homework. She knew why; it had been against the rules and the rules had been something she was loathe to break back then. Now, however, is a different story altogether.

Seeing it, sparkling before her now, she thinks of OWLs, of the war against Voldemort, and the time she misses being with friends because of the other two. Her hand stays suspended over the box for several minutes before she makes her decision. Shutting the lid firmly, she turns and starts to walk away. But it calls to her. No one would have to know.

"How much for that box there and everything in it?" she asks the ancient shopkeeper. He sits slumped over a copy of the Daily Prophet. He had barely acknowledged her presence when she entered the shop. He looks up at her now with a thinly disguised look of impatience.

"That box there?" he asks.

"Yes, I need something to store my quills and other things in." She doesn't know why she invents the lie, but she feels compelled to explain her interest in the old thing. But the shopkeeper seems not to care.

"Ten galleons."

"Five."

"Eight."

"Fine." She hands him the money, grabs the box and leaves. She endures the latest Quidditch news from Harry and Ron on the way back to the castle, all the while thinking of the treasure she has discovered. Once safely ensconced in her room, she draws it out of the box and gingerly places it around her neck, tucking it out of sight under her sweater.

'I'll only use it for legitimate purposes," she promises herself. She can't let things get out of hand, not like last time. And she can't get caught.

The first time it happens, she is caught off guard. She only meant to go back 2 hours, not 20 years. Hermione wonders how far back she has traveled, when someone comes barreling through the door. She barely has time to register that it is a boy, tall, with dark hair, before he descends upon her, grabbing her to him. He crushes her to him in a tight embrace and then kisses her with an intensity that startles her.

"I'm so glad to see you," he says, when he finally lifts his head.

"Who are you? What do you think you're doing?" she demands.

"Holly, it's me Severus," he says, looking at her strangely. She stares at him in disbelief. Severus? She only knows one man named Severus, and he is not a spotty teenage boy.

He certainly resembles Professor Snape, slightly taller than her with greasy black hair. This can't be happening, she thinks in a panic, but then Professor McGonagall's words echo in her head as the blood pounds in her ears.

_More powerful witches and wizards than you or I, dear girl, have ended up stuck in the past or worse yet, changed their own futures. You must be careful not to be seen by anyone! _

Black and green blur her vision, and her knees sway. Strong arms support her, and she finds herself being helped into a chair.

"This is the first time for you, isn't it?" the boy asks. She nods vaguely, unaware of what he really means. It certainly is the first time she has ever traveled back this far.

"Is your family name Snape?" she asks, her head finally clearing. He looks at her surprised, but nods. Her stomach turns uncomfortably as she realizes the implications of what she has done.

"So you do remember," her future professor says with a shy smile. He reaches down and brushes the hair from her face, tucking an errant lock behind her ear. "Do you want some Pepperup Potion? You look a little pale." She shakes her head, trying to decide what to do next.

"I need to get back," she says weakly.

"So soon? I wanted to show you something," he says, taking her hands and pulling her up. He leads her through the halls and she prays that no one else sees her. Enough damage has been done already.

"Here it is," he says finally, stopping in a deserted hallway. They stand staring at an empty wall while a suit of armor snickers nearby. "_Ouvra_." He taps his wand on the third stone from the right. Inside there is a long table with several bubbling cauldrons.

"What is all this?" she asks, her curiosity getting the better of her.

"It's my own private lab. Isn't it great?" he tells her. Letting go of her hands, he picks up a long spoon and begins stirring one of the potions, a bright purple concoction. "I'm working on a potion that makes the drinker very, shall we say, desirable."

She looks at him surprised, "I thought love potions were illegal?"

"It's not a love potion. It makes the drinker more interesting, more exciting to the people around them."

"I can teach you how to bottle fame," she quotes without thinking.

"Exactly! Except that I haven't perfected it yet."

"You would want to make sure that the drinker becomes famous, not infamous," she says with a smile.

"A subtle yet very important difference," he agrees. "I slipped a trial sample into Avery's tea the other morning and by lunchtime no one could stop talking about how he had fallen from his broom from a height of fifty meters during Quidditch the week before. Not quite the kind of exposure I'm looking for."

"What are you looking for?"

"Fame, fortune, a beautiful girl," he says softly, moving closer. Hermione can feel his breath on her cheek as his arms move up to encircle her. "I've missed you," he whispers into her ear before burying his face in her hair. She tenses, searching for the right words, but a loud ruckus from the other side of the wall interrupts her thoughts. Snape pulls away from her, and points his wand at the entrance.

"Open up, Snivellus, we know you're in there!"

"Black," he says to her in the way of explanation. "You should go now. I'll deal with them." She stands staring at him. How was she to return home without him seeing her use the Time Turner?

"But…," she protests.

"Go, Holly," he orders her, sounding more like the Snape she knew from Potions classes. He turns back to her, kissing her lightly on the lips and at the same time pulls her Time Turner from under her blouse.

"B-but how do you…?" she stammers. He doesn't give her time to finish the question. With a quick flick of his finger, he twirls the Time Turner, and then steps back.

Hermione arrives back in her own time, more nauseous than ever, and wondering what has just happened.

The second time she goes back that far it is with a purpose. She has seen Professor Snape over the Christmas hols, bloody and broken, yelling at Moody and Lupin about sparing him during battles with Death Eaters. It gives her pause. And she begins to see him in a completely new light. He deserves better than to be mistreated by both sides in this war. If only had someone to guide him, to warn him, when he was younger.

And then she thinks of Holly and how enamored of her he seemed to be. And so she develops a plan. She will be the one to tell him. She will be the one to guide him. Locking herself in a quiet classroom, she turns the hourglass back.

Just like before the ground beneath her spins away. When the classroom finally comes back into focus, she realizes that she isn't alone.

"Right on time," the younger Snape says.

"What time is that?"

"Immediately following dinner on March 8th."

"Oh," she answers weakly. Traveling this far is hard on her equilibrium.

"Here." He shoves a vial into her hands. "Drink this, you'll feel better." She sips at the blue liquid, then gulps it down when she realizes that it is a stomach potion.

"Better?" She nods.

"How is the private lab progressing?" she asks, trying to be conversational. She suddenly realizes that she has little to no plan on how to proceed. She decided that she was going to 'save' Snape from his future bad decision, but she has no idea how to go about it.

"Lab?" He raises one eyebrow. She frowns. Apparently, she has come back earlier than the last time. "I love it when you do that."

"Do what?"

"Tell me something inadvertently. You are so careful most of the time not to reveal my future or any personal information about yourself. It makes for a nice change."

"Is that so?" He nods. Grabbing her hand, he leads her from the room.

"Where are we going?" she asks.

"To my new private lab." She stops, pulling her hand from his.

"No, we're not. You don't know where it is yet."

"You won't show me?" His expression is crestfallen. She shakes her head. He is right, she shouldn't be giving him too much information about the future. It's too dangerous. She needs to give him just enough to convince him not to join Voldemort. But it will be trickier than she had first thought. She is coming back to random times in his past. She doesn't think it wise to show up out of nowhere and just announce that he should avoid any men with snakelike eyes with delusions of grandeur. Lord Voldemort tricked Snape. He lured and seduced him to his side. Hermione would have to have equal finesse to convince him to work against him.

"How about a walk around the lake instead?" He nods in agreement.

"So you were expecting me tonight?" she asks nonchalantly as they walk.

"Of course I was," Snape answers. "You told me most every date you would appear when I was eleven, although you show up other times too. And then there were the rules."

"Oh, yes of course," she says, feigning complete understanding. "Let's review the rules shall we." She hopes she didn't offend him with her highhanded manner, but she doesn't want to appear unknowledgeable about the rules she has set herself.

"You're upset that I wanted to see the lab," he accuses, stopping as they reached the front door of the castle.

"A little, but I understand. It's hard."

"Yes it is," he says sullenly.

"Does this mean you don't want to walk around the lake?" He sulks for a few moments more, but finally turns in the direction of the door.

"So, the rules?" she prompts.

"Fine," he huffs. "No asking questions about the future. No asking questions about you. No telling anyone about your visits. And lastly no trying to find you."

Those seem reasonable enough to her. It appears that sometime in her near future she would travel back to see Severus and relate these rules to him. The thought boggles her mind. Has she really made up these rules then? He has been the one to relay them to her, but he has gotten them from her.

She decides not to think too hard about it. She has a mission to fulfill. If her future is to change it would be because his had.

"Who's this? Finally found a girlfriend, have we?" a haughty voice says from behind them. Snape wheels around, drawing out his wand. Hermione turns to see two girls—one with long white-blond hair, the other darker, but they both have the same nose, the same shape of eyes.

"Just because you wouldn't have me, doesn't mean no one would, Narcissa," Snape spits. Hermione stifles a gasp as she realized who she is looking at. This is Narcissa and Bellatrix Black.

"Some of us will settle only for the very best. Others aren't as lucky," Narcissa says, looking Hermione up and down and wrinkling her nose.

"Snape's lucky to have anyone," Bellatrix says with a harsh laugh.

"Let's go, Severus," she says, pulling at his hand. He turns reluctantly and follows her. They walk away quickly, the silence heavy and tense between them. They finally stop at a bend in the lake to sit on a nearby bench.

"You're not really my girlfriend," he says, breaking the silence. She looks over at him cautiously.

"No."

"I'd like you to be. He turns to her. She gulps. This is more than she has planned for, but nothing less than she should have expected after her last visit.

"I know…"

"But," he interrupts her.

"But it would be difficult. You must see that." She tries to be gentle. He has just faced severe rejection by the Black sisters. She doesn't wish to compound that with one of her own.

"Difficult but not impossible," he says, taking her hand and running his thumb over her knuckles. She looks down at their hands and then back up at him.

"I don't know…." But he stills her statement by covering her mouth with his. It's all wrong, and in her gut, she realizes she is his first kiss.

"I should go," she says when he pulls away, not knowing what else to say. His smile falters.

"You'll come back?"

"Yes."

She reaches for the Time Turner. What has she gotten herself into?

The third and fourth time she goes back, she finds an empty classroom. It isn't until three days later that it hits her, sitting in Potions class, listening as Professor Snape lectures on boomslang skin, that she thinks of a Tracking Charm. As long as she is at Hogwarts, it should allow her to make sure she arrives in his vicinity when she travels back. All she needs is a strand of hair to cast the charm.

Luckily, for her, his hair is long and sheds. She finds just what she needs on the foot of his chair. Unluckily for her, he catches her snooping.

"What are you doing in here?" a voice demands from the doorway. Hermione looks up to see Professor Snape standing there looking furious. He has his wand out and pointed at her.

"I forgot my bag," she lies.

"Behind my desk?"

"It wasn't at mine. I—I thought perhaps you had found it and put it up here for safekeeping."

"I did find it," he says silkily as he comes closer. She straightens up, taking a small step back.

"You did?"

"It's on your shoulder." He points at her. She gulps. It is a stupid lie and he has caught her in it.

"Do you want to know what I think, Miss Granger?"

"Sir?"

"You are a cheater. You're a sneak. I won't stand for it."

"Sir, I can explain—"

"I'd rather not hear any more of your lies. Detention with me tomorrow at 8:00 sharp."

"Yes, professor," she says with her head bowed.

"Get out."

She does not argue.

Her detention is predictably horrible, but in the end, it is worth the trouble. She goes back at least once a week after that. A later Snape gives her the dates that she then relays to a quivering first year while he waits to be Sorted.

"What House do you want to be in?" she asks.

"I don't care," he says sullenly and she wonders if he has ever been happy.

"Gryffindor is a nice House," she offers, thinking this is a chance to change his future. "Or Ravenclaw."

"Who are you again?"

"A friend. My name is Holly," she tells him. "Did you write down the dates? I'll be dropping in now and then to see you and make sure you're doing okay."

He doesn't respond. Professor McGonagall calls them away before he can. Hermione crosses her fingers and hopes for the best, watching from a hidden corner.

Her heart drops when the Hat calls out Slytherin almost the moment it is dropped on his head.


	2. Chapter 2

**Part Two**

_We must use time as a tool, not as a crutch._  
John F. Kennedy

Fifth year ends for Hermione, and Snape is still Snape, nasty and mean as ever he was. He brews her several potions to counteract the curse Dolohov threw at her in the Ministry of Magic, but he sneers at her every time he comes to give them to her.

She manages to go back one more time before leaving for the summer. She likes to think that Severus as she now calls his younger self and she have become friends of a sort. It is early fall when they are, and they have lounged in the courtyard where he tells her the latest spell he has devised. It is a pleasant way to spend the day, until Narcissa interrupts.

"Here's my Charms essay, Severus," Narcissa says, her voice ever haughty. "It's due on Friday so try and have it back by Thursday morning this time. I don't want a repeat of last time."

"Fine," Severus says tersely, taking the parchment from her. Hermione watches in amazement. Narcissa glances over at her, looking her up and down with a pretentious smile. "So you're back for more, are you? I daresay he's a bit more practiced these days," she tells Hermione cryptically before turning and striding away, balancing perfectly on her four-inch heels. Hermione holds back the urge to throw a Tripping Hex, but only barely.

"Why are you doing her homework for her?" she asks instead, turning and looking at Severus sternly. She remembers their encounter by the lake. It has only been a couple of months ago for Hermione. How long ago has it been for Severus?

"Because," he says gruffly.

"Because why?" she persists.

"It is my own business, Holly," he says more sharply than she has ever heard him. Except, of course, that isn't completely true. She heard him speak to Seamus in that exact tone just yesterday in Potions class, but this is the first time she had heard Severus and not Professor Snape talk like that. "Do you think you can just sweep into my life on a whim and dictate to me how I'm supposed to live it? If you really cared, you would stay."

"Do you want me to leave?"

"I want you to stay."

"I can't," she argues.

"Then why come at all?" he asks and the desperation in his voice is so thick that it makes her throat close up.

"I want to help," she tells him. "Please let me help."

"You can't help me," he says. And before she can respond, he gets up and leaves her sitting in the courtyard. She slinks off and returns to her own time – just in time to see Snape sneering again as he hands over her potions. She goes home to her parents, defeated and broken, but with more determination than ever before.

* * *

The summer drags by, but at least her parents allow her to spend most of it at the Burrow. Professor Snape comes by several times, and Hermione can see that her visits to his past have made no impact. At least once, he shows up bloodied and bruised. It makes her feel helpless and weak.

Report after report of Death Eaters attacking homes and destroying lives litter the newspapers. The adults hold whispered conversations, but with the twin's Extendable Ears, Ron, Ginny, and Hermione know nearly everything.

The school year starts and Hermione finally starts to feel useful again. She cleans up Harry before the opening feast and later that night, she cleans up a third year Severus who has had a run in with James Potter and Sirius Black.

"I hate them," he says under his breath, while she tends to his bloody nose and black eye. She was surprised to find out that Harry's father and godfather were such horrible bullies. Even Harry's rivalry with Draco isn't this bad, but though she sympathizes with Severus, she reminds herself why she is here.

"Hate is an awfully strong word," she admonishes him.

"Well, they're awful. Someday I'm going to make sure they get what they deserve." His voice is cold and hard. She knows he means what he says.

"What about the golden rule? You should treat others like you want to be treated," she tells him.

He frowns. "I thought the golden rule was 'The one with the gold, rules.'"

Hermione tries to argue, but Severus refuses to listen.

* * *

Two days after the Quidditch trials, Hermione goes back again, only this time something goes horribly wrong. The moment she appears, she finds herself face to face with a wand. Falling to her knees, she tries to will the world to stop spinning.

"Who are you?" a deep voice demands. She is dazed and confused. She wonders where Severus is. With a sudden lurch, her stomach emptied itself.

"Disgusting!" a second voice exclaims, sounding slightly familiar.

"_Evanesco,_" says the deeper voice. Hermione looks up to see Draco Malfoy and Professor Snape towering over her.

"Granger!" Draco says, brandishing his wand, but Snape holds him back.

"No, Draco, it's hard to get answers from dead bodies." Hermione pales. Something is very wrong.

"Take her wand."

Draco kneels down, fumbles through her robes, and finally grabs her wand with a triumphant look. Standing up, he kicks her for good measure.

"That will be all. You can leave us now," Snape says, his eyes never leaving her face. Hermione tries to discern what he is thinking. Is this just a show for Draco or does he really mean to hurt her? But his face holds no answers, his expression blank.

Draco's smile falters and he sputters, "But—but…"

"Miss Granger and I are going to have a little chat. I need you to keep watch. If she found us then there might be others."

"Fine," Draco says, though he still looked disappointed. Hermione's brain races as she tries to place the conversation in context. Others? Found them? What is going on?

"Get up," he orders after Draco has shut the door, leaving them alone together. She obeys, rising to her feet. For the first time she is able to take in the surroundings. They are in a small room with a stone hearth at one end and small dirty windows. The place has an air of disuse and a layer of dust covers every surface.

"Sit." He points at a table with two rickety chairs. As she sits, thing ropes burst from his wand, binding her to the chair.

"Oh," she yelps in surprise. "Is that really necessary?"

"I believe it is," he says almost nonchalantly, taking the chair across from her and scooting it closer. "Not tell me, how did you find us?"

She wiggles against her bindings, but they only seemed to grow tighter the more she struggles. He sits, waiting for her answer.

"Untie me and I'll tell you."

"No, I'm the one with the advantage here. You will answer my question or I will be forced to resort to more desperate measures."

"You wouldn't."

"I believe I have already demonstrated my willingness to use Unforgivables." Hermione blanches, wondering just how far this Snape will really go.

"I followed you."

"You're lying." He is a Legilimens. There is nothing she could do; she is wandless. She can't reach her Time Turner, and she has never learned Occlumency. Her only hope is to remain silent.

"Are you going to answer truthfully?"

She says nothing.

"Fine," he says, making a sudden movement. She flinchs in anticipation of the Cruciatus or Imperius Curse. But he merely places his wand on the table and reaches into his robes.

"What are you doing?" she asks, momentarily forgetting her vow of silence.

"Providing you with a little incentive," he says with a sneer, producing a vial of clear liquid. He grabs her by the throat, forcing her head back. She gasps for air, her mouth opening, and her eyes watering. She struggles against his strong hold but to no avail. He squeezes three drops down her throat. She gags, determined not to swallow them, but he only grips her tighter.

"Swallow, Miss Granger, or you will choke to death." Finally relenting, she swallows hard. He lets her go, stepping back.

"You're a NEWT student. Tell me, what did you just ingest?"

"Veritaserum," she chokes out, its affect already taking over. Her head feels fuzzy and she suddenly feels ready to divulge her darkest secret should he ask.

"Correct. A pity I can't award points anymore. Now tell me how did you find us?"

"I have my Time Turner charmed to find you," she answers, her voice monotone.

"Your Time Turner?" He reaches for the chain around her neck, drawing out the miniature hour glass.

"When are you from?"

"November 2nd."

"Six months ago…," he murmurs. "Why are you using a Time Turner to find me?"

"I wanted to help you, to stop you from joining You Know Who and the Death Eaters," she says. A part of her mind screams at her not to say such things, but the words slips out of her mouth before she can stop them.

"Why?" he demands. "Why help me?"

"I saw you at headquarters last Christmas and you were hurt. You were lying on the table and instead of saying thank you for your contribution Moody was accusing you of being the Dark Wizard you pretend to be. I thought…I thought you deserved better…that if you had never joined You Know Who things would be better."

"You stupid girl," he says, letting the go of the Time Turner. It falls back against her chest with a thud. He starts pacing in front of the hearth. Hermione watches as the last of the Veritaserum wears off.

"What am I going to do with you?" he says quietly to himself.

"Sir, I'm sorry. I never thought that…"

"You never thought is exactly right, Miss Granger. Do you have any idea what you have done?" He hisses at her.

She shakes her head miserably. She has no idea, but she knows the second she gets back to her own time she is getting rid of the Time Turner. She has been wrong to think that she could change Snape. This dangerous man in front of her is not the boy she has befriended as a student. Suddenly, he stops his pacing and looks at her.

"It all makes sense now, Holly." He says her pseudonym venomously, staring down at her. She gulps, afraid of the glint shining in his eyes. He has guessed her secret, and he doesn't look pleased to find his long-lost friend.

"_Obliviate_," she hears him say, her mind going blank. He reaches for the chain around her neck, and then the world is spinning again.

* * *

Time marches on. School is busy as ever. NEWT level classes are difficult and challenging, which is just the way Hermione likes things. But she no longer uses the Time Turner to give her extra time to study. Instead, she goes back to visit Severus. Time spent with him is time spent on the war effort. And more and more, she comes to like him for him.

When she argues with Ron about the Slug Club and things become tense between the two of them, she visits a sixth year Severus. She tries not to encourage him romantically, but when he wants to hold her hand as they walk around the lake, she lets him.

"I didn't think you would come back after we argued last time," he tells her. Hermione racks her brain to remember what he is talking about. It is possible she hasn't yet had the argument he's referring to.

"I will always come back," she tells him.

"Narcissa and I are just mates," he explains, and she remembers their argument from last year. It has only been three days since they argued for him. Patting his arm, she tells him she understands.

"I just don't like seeing her taking advantage of you," she says.

"I'm the one taking advantage," he assures her.

"Just be careful of her," she warns, but she is afraid it has fallen on deaf ears.

* * *

Severus isn't the only one learning about the ups and downs of love and courtship. Ron makes her crazy. She decides she has never met anyone so dense in all of her life.

She storms from the room, her flock of crazed canaries taking one last dive at Ron before swooping out the door with her in a loud cacophony of chirping. They fade away as she walks through the halls, deciding what to do next.

On a whim, she reaches for the gold chain around her neck.

A moment later, she hears Severus exclaim from behind her, "Holly!"

She spins around to face him, trying hard not to cry. He looks older than she had ever seen him in the past, and he doesn't have Hogwarts robes on, just plain black. "Severus, I—" She doesn't know what to say. She doesn't know why she's come.

"You didn't tell me you would be here now," he says, coming closer.

"I didn't know," she says truthfully.

"Well, I'm glad you're here."

"Me too," she says, trying to keep the waver from her voice, but she failed. "H—how are you?"

"I'm a teacher now, Potions Master," he tells her, standing up straighter. "What? You don't believe me?" he asks when he sees her mouth drop open.

"No, I—that's fantastic!" she says brightly. "How do you like it?"

He chuckles. "I don't know. Tomorrow is my first day. I imagine I'll like shaping young minds."

Hermione can't help but laugh disbelievingly.

"You don't think so?" he asks, sounding hurt.

"No," she says quickly. "I'm certain you'll do great."

"I think perhaps you'll be my good luck charm," he says, stepping even closer. "Good things happen when you show up." He lifts his hands and runs his fingers over her cheeks. Hermione closes her eyes, and pushes thoughts that this is against the rules to the back of her mind, craving the physical comfort of his hands.

She doesn't push him away even when she feels his lips on hers. Instead, she returns his kiss eagerly. If Ron can shamelessly snog Lavender in the common room then she can certainly kiss Severus. The incongruity of the situations doesn't bear heavy on her mind.

It isn't until she is reclining on his couch without her shirt that Hermione comes to her senses. This is wrong. This is very, very wrong.

"We can't do this," she says as his lips move up her jaw to the spot right below her ear that makes her shiver.

"We can and we are," he tells her in a low husky voice that nearly makes her melt. She lets herself forget for a few moments more, but when his hands linger lower and lower, she gathers the strength to push him away.

"I'm not from your time. We might damage things."

"My future isn't yet written," he says.

"I know. It's why I'm here. When you have the chance, Severus, you must promise me to choose the Light. Good will always triumph over Evil, you must remember that." It sounds trite, but it is the only way she knows to give him the message without giving too much away.

"I choose knowledge," he says. "And right now I'd like to know you better." He buries his face in her neck and his hands caress her sides and the undersides of her breasts.

"Choose love," Hermione says, pulling his face up so she can look in his eyes. "Love."

"I do." He kisses her again. She lets him kiss her, but when he finishes, she slips out from underneath him, scoops up her shirt, and turns her hourglass.

"Goodbye, Severus." It is the last time he will see her for quite awhile.

She arrives back in the abandoned classroom, still clutching her shirt to her bare chest. The cold air makes her skin prickle and she hurries to get dressed before anyone comes in and catches her half undressed.

But of course, halfway through buttoning up her blouse, the door flies open and Hermione finds herself at the mercy of Professor Snape for the second time in hours, except that this time he does not look pleased to see her.

"Miss Granger!" he barks. "Out again after curfew, only this time I've caught you at it. Twenty points from Gryffindor and detention tomorrow night."

Hermione drops her hands to her side and straightens her spine, leaving the top half of her shirt gaping open. She cringes at both his tone and the stupidity of leaving herself open like she has.

"And for Merlin's sake girl, get dressed."

"Yes, sir." He hadn't been so eager for her to put her clothes back on twenty years ago, she thinks viciously, but she keeps her mouth shut and hurries to right herself. She can feel her cheeks getting hot as he stands by and watches. When she finishes, she pulls on her robe and tries to get past where Snape stands in the doorway. Putting out his arm, he stops her.

"Where is your partner in crime, Miss Granger?" he asks silkily, looking down his nose at her.

"I don't know what you're talking about, sir."

"Is he worth an additional detention? I have some particularly nasty potions ingredients prepared by hand later this week that I would like to put off onto some student. Are you volunteering information or your time?"

"What time do you require assistance, sir?" she asks, forcing out his title of respect. He is, after all, the reason she is even in this mess.

"I'll see you the rest of this week at eight."

Hermione furrows her brow and looks up at him with a frown. "The rest of the week? But you said—"

He cuts her off with a shake of his hand. "Eight, Miss Granger. Every day this week, and I'll take off twenty points for every word of protest that comes out of your mouth, do you understand?"

She nods her head, still glaring. "I can't hear you," he taunts.

"Yes, sir," she grinds out.

"Goodnight, Miss Granger." And then he spins around and leaves in a swirl of robes. Hermione heads back to the dormitory, cursing every man she has ever met.

* * *

Hermione doesn't visit Severus while she has detention with Snape. She doesn't want her negative feelings from the present to affect the past. So it is awhile before she sees him again, but when she does he is young – a second year. And he is weeping.

"What's wrong?" she asks.

"I got a note in the owl post today…" He can't continue. Tears drip down his face and he chokes on a sob. Hermione waits, ushering them both into a secluded stairway.

"Go on," she prompts him.

"My mother—my mother died today. She had been sick, but I didn't think…"

Hermione pulls him to her and just holds him while he cries. When he finally stops, he tells her "I'm an orphan now."

"Where is your father?" she asks.

"He left when he learned mum was a witch, when I got my Hogwarts letter last year. My gran took her in. She said in her note that she died of a broken heart. Over—" he still has trouble getting out the words, but she waits for him to finish—"over a dirty Muggle."

"Severus," she scolds him. "Muggles aren't dirty."

"Then why did he leave?"

It breaks Hermione's heart. "I don't know."

"Maybe not dirty then, but certainly stupid. Wizards can do so much more than Muggles. If he hadn't left then she might still be alive and I wouldn't be all alone."

"You're not alone," she tells him and pulls him close again. He nods against her chest, but she can feel the tears seeping through the fabric of her clothes and wishes she could do more. "You have me and Professor Dumbledore will always be there for you, remember that."

She holds him for a long time, until he finally pulls away, wipes his nose on his sleeve, and hurries back to his dormitory. Hermione returns to her own time a little less upset with the Snape of the present.


	3. Chapter 3

**Part Three**

_They say that time changes things, but you actually have to change them yourself._  
Andy Warhol

Apparition lessons, Hermione finds, are harder than she first thought. This is not something she can read and memorize from a book. It takes actual skill. Harry is too distracted to help her. And she doesn't relish the thought of asking Ron. So it is fantastic when she one day she turns her hourglass and finds Severus practicing for his own test.

"You don't know how to Apparate?" he asks incredulously. "I thought you knew how to do everything."

"I'm the same age as you are, Severus," she tells him with a smile. "Well, this time anyway."

"Yes, I suppose you are. It's just that when I first met you, you were so much older, that I always think of you that way. How old am I when you first meet me?"

Hermione remembers her first day at Hogwarts, how she sat in his class and tried in vain to catch his attention. She had overheard some of the older students saying he was difficult but good, and she desperately wanted to impress him.

"You're in your thirties, I think. Much older than now." And more bitter and discontented with life, she thinks. She doesn't mention that she is far from his favorite person in the world in her own time.

"Thirty?" he says, looking as though he can hardly imagine ever being that old. "Are we friends?"

"We aren't friends in my time. The age difference is too much to overcome and you've never recognized me," she says.

He furrows his brow at that. "But why aren't we friends? And why don't I know who you are?"

She touches his elbow gently and tries to explain. "I was very young when you met me. I didn't know I would be visiting you and you didn't recognize me from your past. Over time, I think you came to see me as the girl you met six years ago, not twenty years ago. It never crosses your mind that we are the same person."

"Will you ever tell me?"

"Someday," she promises. "Someday, we will be friends again, in the open where everyone can see us and we can talk about anything in the past or the future."

"I can't wait for that day," he tells her, taking her hand in his.

Hermione smiles. "Shall we practice some more?" she asks. He nods and they start again. By the end of the afternoon, Hermione feels ready for her test.

* * *

And then the unthinkable happens. Harry disappears into the night with Dumbledore, leaving behind a vial of Felix Felicis. He asks her and Luna to keep an eye on Snape, and though she doesn't think it's necessary (she know Severus, doesn't she?) He comes out of his office and tells them both that someone has stunned Flitwick. Later that evening, she learns that Dumbledore is dead and that Snape is the one who has yielded the deadly curse.

Hermione is aghast and heartbroken. She doubles her efforts regarding young Severus. She must convince him that the Death Eaters are the last people he should associate with, but it is hard going when faced with a young boy who isn't yet the man he will be. Her head hurts just thinking about it.

"What do you want to be when you grow up?" Hermione asks a first year Severus. It is three weeks since he first met her in the Great Hall and he is still wary of her presence. Already, he has attracted trouble from Sirius Black and is nursing a black eye from their most recent run-in. She tries to distract him with questions about himself, but he is hesitant to answer.

"I don't know," he says gruffly.

"You don't know? Surely, you've given it some thought."

He sits across from her at a long desk in an abandoned classroom. He scowls and rubs his temple. "I don't know. Prime Minister would be nice," he says noncommittally.

"You mean Minister of Magic?"

"There's a Minister of Magic?" he asks. She forgets that his mother didn't tell him much about the Wizarding world. She nods her head. "Then that, for sure," he says.

"Or…"

"Yes?"

"An astronaut. I wanted to be an astronaut when I was nine."

"That's a great dream," Hermione says.

Severus shakes his head violently. "My father says I'm too stupid to be an astronaut. You have to be strong and smart and good at math. I'm none of those things."

Hermione's heart drops to hear him denigrate himself at such a young age and she tries to reassure him. "You're strong and smart," she tells him. "And you can learn math. I'll help you."

He just shrugs. "Nah, I'd rather be minister."

Hermione chuckles and asks him what his first act as minister will be. His answer –he will eat a very large bowl of ice cream and then ban homework at Hogwarts.

She tries not to think about the fact that he will grow up to be, not the Minister of Magic he imagines, but the murderer of Albus Dumbledore.

* * *

The next time she tries, instead of landing in the past, she lands in the future.

When the air around her stops swirling, she finds herself on her knees, trying not to throw up her lunch. An arm reaches down, grabs her by the elbow and wrenches her up. It is Professor Snape. He wears his same black teaching robes. His hair is still greasy and he looks angrier than a swarm of wet bees. He throws her into a hard wooden chair. They are in small dingy room with peeling wallpaper and just enough room for a bed, a small round table and two chairs.

"You!"

"I see you've found me with your Time Turner," he says with a sneer. He points his wand at her, tsking like a schoolmarm when she tries to reach for her own. Fear bubbles up inside of her. A lump lodges in her throat as the meaning of his words hit her with full force. He knows.

"You know about the time travel then?" she says meekly. Her eyes close in the face of his deadly stare.

"You thought I wouldn't ever figure it out? I saw quite a bit of you, Holly," he says with a sneer, making Hermione flinch at his tone, "as a child. We were great pals if you remember."

"You killed Professor Dumbledore."

"So I did," he says casually. He crosses his arms across his chest.

"Why?" It comes out a choked sob.

"I suppose Potter blames me," he says snidely.

Hermione looks at him in shock. "Who else should he blame?"

"I have served no other purpose than as scapegoat to that boy. I certainly failed him as teacher, his skills in Potions and Occulmency are a testament to that. Wasn't I the first person he suspected to be trying to steal the Philosopher's Stone? Wasn't I the one he pointed the finger at when Black died? It was I who goaded him into leaving the house that was responsible, not Potter who tried to rescue with him with only a rag-tag team of students."

"And now it is my fault that Dumbledore is dead. Yes, Miss Granger," he says sharply when he sees her mouth open to protest, "I cast the Killing Curse, but it was Potter who poured the poison down his throat that allowed him to be taken unawares by Draco. The greatest wizard in the world and he was at the mercy of a sixteen year old, and later me, because of Potter." He spits the last word, bits of spittle landing on the floor evidence of his intense hatred.

"That doesn't explain why."

"You want to know why. I'll tell you why—because I value my life over that of a dying old man. I was arrogant enough to believe that I would be more valuable to the cause. Make no mistake; one of us had to die in that room. I only made sure it wasn't me."

Hermione stands and walks to the window, unable to look at him anymore. He talks with such coldness, and seemingly with no regret. There is a long moment of silence between the two, interrupted only by the sound of him coming up behind her. Instinctually she tenses, her knuckles whitening as she grabs the windowsill.

"And let's not forget the role you have played, my dear," he says softly in her ear. Her stomach turns at the endearment. She has kissed this man. She cared for him.

"I trusted you! I tried to help you!" She wheels around to face him.

"Don't dare to condemn me!" he roars, grabbing her by the arms and shoving her back into the window. Her eyes widen in fear, knowing what he is capable of doing. He must see her look of terror for he lets her go quickly, his mask of inscrutability fixed firmly on his face again.

"Did I ever tell you why I joined the Death Eaters," he asks almost conversationally. Hermione shakes her head, unnerved by his continued proximity. Her unease only increases as he lifts his hand and runs his knuckles gently across her cheek.

"Because of you."

"What?" she gasps.

"Did you think you could really change who I became by your visits to me? I became who I am because of you."

"I-I don't understand."

"I was fascinated with you. I worshipped you. And when you stopped appearing to me, I looked for you. The Ministry would hear nothing of my petitions for a Time Turner. I was turned away from working in the Department of Mysteries. The only person who promised what I looked for was the Dark Lord. Imagine my complete surprise and disgust to learn that it had been none other than the irritating know-it-all who had plagued me the last six years of my life, the bloody best friend of Potter."

She feels as though he has struck in the chest. Her legs no longer seem to have the strength to hold her. "No…no, that can't be right," she chokes out. Stumbling forward, she fists her hands in his robes before sinking to her knees with a thud.

"What have I done?" she whispers, tears streaming down her face. He looks down at her, watching as the realization hit her full force before he kneels beside her. Taking her into his arms, he lets her sob into his chest.

"I'm so sorry. This is all my fault," she repeats over and over again while he runs his hands up and down her back. "It was all for nothing."

He puts his hand under her chin and forces her to look at him. "It was everything. Or haven't you been listening? I am who I am today because of you. Because of you and your ill thought out actions. Who knows what I might have become without your influence."

He lets her go and stands up, going back to the window. Hermione takes great big gulps of air while she tries to process everything. She watches as the muscles of his back ripple with tension. She didn't mean for this to happen. She thought she might do some good…

"For good or for bad?" she asks, breaking the silence, though she is uncertain she really wants the honest answer. She wants him to tell her that he joined the Dark Lord because of Holly, but that her words, something she said, also made him come back.

"We'll never know, will we?" he says snidely, not granting her the absolution she searches for.

Hermione clenches her eyes shut. "I am sorry," she whispers.

He doesn't say a word, but nods his head. He leaves the window and sits at the small table in the corner, where a pitcher of water, a stale looking loaf of bread, and a Muggle newspaper sit. They sit in silence for what seems like hours, but is probably only fifteen minutes until a sudden spurt of inspiration hits Hermione. She can make this better. She can make it right. Standing, she joins him in the only other chair in the room.

"Maybe its not all in vain. We can still do some good," she says. Snape looks at her scornfully.

"Does your optimism never die?"

"Just listen a moment," she says. Her hands flutter in excitement. "If I could get here, to the future, this time, then I could do it again. You could give me advance notice of events." She reaches for the paper to illustrate her point, pointing to a headline about a bridge washing out in the north of England. "You could win this war for us!"

"What makes you think I want Potter winning this war?" he asks in an ice cold tone.

Hermione stops. The breath catches in her throat as she remembers that he has killed Dumbledore, that he could just as easily kill her, but she forces herself to answer him. "The Severus I know wouldn't be like this."

"Haven't you been listening, you daft girl?" He stands up and pushes his chair back forcefully. The sound of its weak wooden legs scraping across the stone floor echo painfully in the small room so that Hermione cringes. "It doesn't matter what we do. What will happen will happen. I joined the Death Eaters because of you. And before you came back there was another reason. And if my father hadn't left me and my mother hadn't died then there would have been another just as compelling reason for me to offer myself up to the Dark Lord's whim."

"But—" she starts to argue, but he barrels on, never letting her get out the next word. Spittle flies out of his mouth as he rages on and his eyes spark with an intensity she has never before seen in him, and it frightens her. She shrinks back into his chair as his tirade continues.

"And even if Potter wins against the Dark Lord, just how long do you think it will be before another Dark Lord rises up in his place? And another young boy, not even out of school, will have to face him too. It is a never ending cycle of life!"

Hermione's eyes shimmer with tears. "You can't believe that," she whispers.

Snape throws himself back in his chair and sighs. When he speaks this time, the anger is gone from his voice, replaced with the exhaustion of a much older man. "If I didn't believe it, I couldn't have killed Albus when he asked."

This small admission, seemingly given unaware catches her by surprise. "When he asked?" she questions.

Snape nods. And then he tells her the story. Of how he made the Unbreakable Vow to Narcissa. How he came back to Hogwarts with a heavy heart and confessed everything to the Headmaster. And how Albus Dumbledore, greatest wizard alive, had asked that he keep his promise.

"I still think we can make this right," she says when he finishes, and then she goes for what she knows is a low blow. "Dumbledore would have wanted us to try at the very least."

Snape doesn't answer, instead frowning at her. He stands and looms over her. Hermione presses back in her chair as far as its sturdy back will accommodate her. "You are a very foolish girl," he says. And then he reaches out and takes the Time Turner from her neck. Before she can stop him, he disappears in a rush of cold air.

She shudders and wonders where in time he is. And will he come back for her?


	4. Chapter 4

**Part Four**

_Come out of the circle of time  
And into the circle of love._  
Rumi

Hermione waits for what seems an eternity, before she lies on the bed and falls into a restless sleep. She awakes when she feels the soft touch of someone smoothing back the hair from her face. Opening her eyes, she sees Professor Snape standing over her with a gentle look that hardens immediately when he sees her looking at him.

"Get up," he says, holding out the Time Turner to her. It dangles from the end of his index finger.

She doesn't take it. Instead, she sits up, hugging her knees to her chest, and asks, "where—when did you go?"

"It doesn't matter," he says. He shakes the Time Turner in his hand for her to take, which she again ignores.

"What about our plan?"

"Our plan?" He sneers at her.

"My plan," she says.

He leans over and puts the Time Turner around her neck. Still fingering it, he narrows his eyes. "The Dark Lord became very angry last month when someone discovered several key Ministry employees were under an Imperius curse cast by Macnair. I suspect you and your friends will have something to do with it."

"Names?"

He drops the small hourglass and turns away from her. "McAlister and Smithson."

"And what about things we haven't prevented but might—"

"Might never change?" He turns back to her and his face is twisted in anger. Hermione drops the argument. She is surprised he has acquiesced to this so quickly after calling her a foolish girl and disappearing into who knows when. She wonders what has changed his mind, but is too nervous to ask. He has given her something. Perhaps, in time, he will agree to more. She almost laughs at that thought – in time indeed.

"I should go," she says quietly.

"Yes, you should."

Hermione holds out her hand. He scowls at her at first, but finally takes it. Instead of shaking it, however, he bows over it, making Hermione blush. Turning the timepiece, the last thing she sees is his silhouette framed by the window.

* * *

It doesn't take long before Harry, Ron, and Hermione are on the run. When they are not trying to figure out what Dumbledore meant with his gifts left to them in his will or what and where the next Horcrux might be found, she sneaks off and uses her Time Turner. The information that Snape provides her goes a long way. She writes short detailed notes to Remus Lupin, who then mobilizes the Order of the Phoenix. And more and more, she finds excuses to stay longer with the man.

"I have a question," she starts one evening. Months ago, she had bought the seventh year Potions textbook and several other manuals so she doesn't fall behind in her schoolwork. After the boys go to bed, she pulls them out and studies them, but there is something that has stumped her.

"I've already told you everything I know, Granger," Snape snaps.

"Yes, yes, and I appreciate that. I will make sure that Remus knows, but this is about Potions." She pulls out her book and opens it to the page she has dog eared the night before.

Snape scowls at her. "I'm no longer you're teacher."

"It's just one question," she says, coming dangerously close to whining.

"It's never just one question with you."

Hermione snaps the books shut and shoves it back in her bag. "Fine, never mind, I'll just figure it out myself. Or maybe I won't. I'll fail my N.E.W.T.s and will end up working as a receptionist in my parent's dentistry office. And it will be your fault, you miserable git."

She looks up to see that Snape's eyes narrowed and his lips are pressed into a thin line. She has angered him.

"Don't speak to me like that," he hisses.

"Why not? You're not my teacher any longer as you so generously pointed out." She is angry, not really at him, but at the situation that means she can't attend school. She loves school. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to yell at you," she says with remorse.

He grabs her arm as she stands up to leave. "Sit down," he orders her. He repeats himself more firmly when she hesitates. "Sit down."

"You may ask me one question and only one question. I suggest you choose wisely."

* * *

They play chess. She asks him one question each time about Potions. They do not discuss the war until right before she leaves. But she is grateful for even the few tidbits he can give her. It is the only way she can feel as though she is making a difference.

Things are working just as she planned until one day she arrives to find a future Snape near death. He is even paler than normal and doesn't have the energy to even sit up when he sees her.

"What happened?" she shrieks, trying to remain calm. Her worst nightmare is that something will happen to Harry, Ron, or to Severus.

"It isn't serious," he says, waving her away, but just the smell of dead flesh and drying blood tells her differently.

"Of course, it's serious!" she cries, pushing his hand away so she can inspect the damage. That he lets her is further evidence of the severity of the situation. "You could die, you stupid, stupid man! How could you let this go?" She takes out the many bottles from her Mary Poppins bag until she finds what she needs.

He shakes his head while she works. "I won't die," he murmurs again and again.

"How can you be so sure? You're rotting from the inside out," she argues.

"It isn't my time to go," he says again, his eyes half shut.

"How can you know that?" she asks. But he doesn't answer and Hermione is suddenly glad for that. If he does know, then she doesn't want to know how. She works a bit longer until she is finally satisfied that he will survive.

Finally finished, she tries to move away but he clasps her hand in his. "Stay with me," he says in a tone that with anyone else Hermione might describe as pleading.

She stays. He doesn't let go of her hand. She sits in the chair beside his bed and tells him the latest frustrations of their search. When their conversation lulls, she tries to take her leave again, but he insists she stay. He wants her nearby, he tells her.

To pass the time, she rests his hand palm up and with her index finger draws out the letters – VOLD. His eyes shoot open and he flashes her a deadly stare.

"Miss Granger," he warns.

"Close your eyes," she says. "My mother used to play this game with me when I was sick and abed." She returns his stare until he does, then she finishes her sentence. VOLDY IS MOLDY.

He glares at her again, but his lips betray him, curling up at the ends. He takes her hand and insists on having a turn. With one long finger he ghost writes KNOW IT ALL on her palm.

"Always," Hermione says with a coy smile. He takes her hand again and this time he writes I ALWAYS LOVED YOU.

She sucks in a breath and searches for the right words to say. How does she explain her feelings towards him? It is not as simple as love, but there is that in there somewhere. He looks away from her towards the wall. He can't bear to look at her while she rejects him. She takes his hand and writes I KNOW.

"Is that all?" He pulls his hand out of her grip.

"It's complicated, isn't it?"

"I suppose," he says, but he sounds hurt nonetheless. His injuries must be contributing to this sudden openness. She is unused to this side of the elder Severus.

Hermione moves from her chair and sits next to him on the bed. He looks uncomfortable at her sudden closeness, but doesn't say anything. She raises her hand and brushes the hair from his face so she can look in his eyes. "I do care for you," she tells him.

"But Mr. Weasley claims your deepest affections," he says.

Hermione frowns. Ron held her at Dumbledore's funeral when she thought her entire world was coming apart. He sat with her at the Burrow and they discussed their plans of helping Harry with the Horcruxes, and he has held her hand on occasion, but neither one of them has taken it any further. There simply isn't the time to focus on trivialities such as romance.

"Ron is…Ron is a very dear friend to me," she says. "And there are times when I think he wants…when I think I want…"

She looks away, only to feel his hand on her chin, forcing her gaze back to him. "Perhaps if things had been different…" he says. His fingers softly caress her chin and memories of that night on his couch the day before his first class as a teacher at Hogwarts flashes through her mind. But it could never work, would never work.

"If I had been born twenty years earlier and a Mudblood had somehow been Sorted into Slytherin, you mean?"

"Or if I had been born twenty years later and a lonely scrappy boy had somehow been Sorted into Gryffindor."

"Then yes, definitely, you would be my first choice," she says with an affectionate smile, which he returns weakly. She leans down and presses a soft kiss to his brow. "You should get some rest."

He is sleeping peacefully when she leaves for the present.

* * *

Things go from bad to worse when Ron leaves. Hermione is convinced he will return the next day when he gets over his fit of anger. When he doesn't she is crushed. Harry is more taciturn than ever and her only comfort is her Time Turner. Even the surly older Professor Snape is more cheerful than Harry.

She goes to the future with more regularity than she ever went to the past. She finds that if she twists the Time Turner slightly to the right before she spins it she is more likely to travel forward than back.

But it is not foolproof. Sometimes she still meets with a younger Severus. She finds herself spending one spring day with a seventh-year Snape. They talk a little until the conversation tapers off into a comfortable silence. They relax in the grass in a well-concealed copse near the lake. The gentle sound of the wind in the trees and water lapping on the shore almost lull her to sleep.

Severus rolls over, closer than ever. The sun, bright even through the shade of her eyelids, dims and when she opens her eyes, she sees him hovering above. Before she can react, he lowers his lips to hers.

He is more practiced than the first time he kissed her, though much more hesitant and less passionate than he will be a few years later the day before his first day of teaching. Hermione tries to forget about how Ron has abandoned her and Harry, Ron who might have stolen kisses by the lake or at the Burrow, and focuses instead on the here and now.

"We shouldn't do this," she says eventually.

"I only have two more visits with you," he argues. "I'm still hoping you'll tell me where my secret lab is hidden. I haven't found it yet."

Hermione frowns at him. "I'm not telling you. Besides, it was so long ago now I don't think I would remember where it is."

"So long ago?" he asks. Hermione can't explain. The next time he will see her will be her first time, once more and then he won't see her again for several years. By her calculations, she has one visit left to him in his third year and that last visit. It makes her head hurt to think about it, so she kisses him instead, pulling him down on top of her. Their snogging soon turns into more and she can feel the evidence of his growing excitement against her stomach.

With a push at his shoulders, she stops him from pulling up her jumper. "Severus," she says. He nearly jumps at the sound of his name.

"We could…I mean, I'd like to…do you want…" he spits and sputters. Hermione puts her hand to his cheek and he stops talking.

Without a word, she moves her hand to his trousers. His eyes drift shut at her touch. She has no idea what she is doing. For one, this is the first time she has done this. Victor only asked kisses of her and Ron hasn't gone farther than holding her hand before abandoning her. And for two, it breaks every rule she decided upon when she first set out to travel to the Snape's past.

But the look on his face spurs her on. She has never seen him so open and vulnerable. He has let his guard down for her and her alone and she likes it. She likes him. It doesn't take long before he is muttering an apology and fishing his wand out of his robe pocket to clean himself up. She giggles, but stops when he jerks his head up and looks at her in horror. He thinks she is laughing at him, when really it just the first time in months that she has been happy enough to come close to laughing. To still his nerves, she leans in and kisses him again.

"I should go," she says with flushed cheeks after a few intense moments.

"Are you sure you don't want me to return the favor? It seems unfair to have you running off so soon after," he says, holding her to him. She nods her head, even as her heart beats wildly in her chest with desire. This is not real life. No matter how much she wishes she could stay here with him, she is in the wrong time.

"There is time," she says.

He snorts at the irony.

"Try the third floor corridor," she whispers in his ear. Why not? She figures, she has already broken all the rules today as it is. He smiles, watching as she turns her Time Turner and leaves him behind again. She realizes with a pang, that it's starting to hurt her almost as much as it must hurt him.

The world spins around her, but she doesn't land in the forest near Harry. She has gone from Severus in the past to Professor Snape in the future. She looks at his older self in confusion, trying to piece together how she landed here. She has never gone from the past to the future – the future to her anyway. He waits while she recovers.

"You weren't expecting to be here?" he asks, finally reaching down to help her up.

"I was just with you – a younger you," she explains. "I thought I was coming back to my time."

"When?" he asks. It is the one question she has hoped he won't ask. She is already flushed from their encounter, an encounter that happened just minutes before for her and decades for him, so she doesn't blush as she might normally.

"I—uh—you were in your seventh year."

He regards her warily and then turns away from her with a snort of disgust. He remembers. His scowl pierces her heart and Hermione wonders if his memories are good or if they have turned spiteful through the years when she didn't return to him. She takes a seat and wills her heartbeat to slow to a normal speed.

"What happened to Mr. Weasley?" he asks.

"He left."

"A taste of your own medicine," he says cruelly.

Hermione cringes. Her anguish at Ron's absence must be nothing compared to what he has endured with her comings and goings all these years.

"Do you have any news?" she asks, hoping he will accept the change of subject.

He nods. He is all business now. "I think I've discovered what the last Horcrux is, Rowena Ravenclaw's diadem. It's heavily guarded though."

"Where?"

He shakes his head. "I haven't figured that out yet. Perhaps you and Potter might do some of the work for a change.

"Guarded how?" she asks, ignoring his jibe. She is used to his caustic comments by now.

"An army of Inferi among other things. You are going to need more than just the two of you to get at it."

"Harry isn't going to like that. He refuses to tell anyone what we're doing. He hardly tolerates me being with him. He didn't want me or Ron at the beginning."

"Convince him otherwise," he says sternly. His black eyes glitter with anger. She knows he hates to talk of Harry. "Your lives depend on it."

"I'll try," she says, conceding. He nods. An awkward silence settles upon them until Hermione feels compelled to say something, anything. "I am—I am sorry," she says.

She turns the Time Turner once more, uncertain if she really hears him mutter "don't be" under his breath as she goes or if it is just her imagination.


	5. Chapter 5

**Part Five**

_For everything there is a season,  
And a time for every matter under heaven:  
A time to be born, and a time to die._

It seems to Hermione that life is starting to get back on track. Or as much as it possibly can in the middle of a war. Ron has returned. She is still angry with him for leaving but she is relieved not to have to handle Harry's moods alone anymore. And then Severus tells her on her next visit to the future that he has discovered the hidden location of the Horcrux.

"It is heavily guarded as I said before," he tells her sternly. "You are going to need help."

Hermione nods her head even as she argues. "Harry doesn't trust anyone but Ron and me." She knows he is right, but what can she do?

"Not even Lupin?" He spits Remus' name as though it leaves a bad taste in his mouth.

"He only ever trusted Dumbledore and he's starting to wonder if even that was a good idea."

"It generally wasn't," Severus says. He pinches the bridge of his nose, and then looks up at her impatiently. "Are you just going to stand there or will you sit down?"

Hermione sits. Despite his foul mood, they play a quick game of chess and when they finish he allows her two potions questions.

"I should be teaching you Defense," he grumbles after explaining a particularly intensive brewing process.

"I'd love that!" she says. Perhaps a little too enthusiastically because he scowls at her.

* * *

Before Hermione can visit Snape again the three of them are captured and hauled off to the Malfoy mansion. Hermione's heart drops as Ron and Harry are dragged away and she is left standing alone without her wand in front of the woman who tortured Neville's parents into madness while Fenrir Greyback impatiently waits his turn with a lecherous grin on his face. She prays for a miracle, but it doesn't come.

Bellatrix casts the Cruciatus Curse and Hermione suddenly knows why it is an Unforgivable. The pain is excruciating. It feels as if her skin is being ripped from her bones. Each bone feels as though it is breaking over and over again. She can't see anything but Bellatrix's face and streaking bright lights from the pain.

And then it stops. It takes Hermione a few moments to realize this. She is lying on the ground panting for breath, but in the far reaches of her mind, she hears Ron and Harry's voice. And another one she recognizes but can't place. Suddenly, she is off the floor, facing her friends, with Bellatrix behind her and a knife to her neck. There is more pain, but it's minor compared to the Cruciatus. The sensation of blood dripping down her neck bothers her more than the sting of the blade.

With a burst of clarity, she knows what she needs to do. Hermione reaches for her Time Turner and there is bang, but before she can see what has happened, Hermione disappears.

She lands in Snape's cottage, falling to the floor in a heap, and retches. He looks up from his newspaper with a bored expression.

"Are you done?" he asks wryly. She nods and tries to stand up, stumbling as she goes. Only then does he rush to her side. He puts his arm around her and helps her to a chair.

"Merlin! What's happened to you? Your neck is bleeding. Are you hurt anywhere else?"

"I have to get back. Ron and Harry need me. What if—" she stutters, her body wracked with trembles. But Snape will hear nothing of her protests. When she reaches for the Time Turner, he slaps her hand away and then takes it from her. He stows it on the table behind him and then turns back to her, kneeling so they are eye to eye.

"You are staying right here, right now. You will be nothing but a burden to them in your current condition," he says. His voice sounds stern but his hands are gentle as he assesses the cut in her neck and then with a few whispered words heals it. "Your robes are torn," he says. "Are you sure you aren't injured anywhere else?"

Hermione looks down and sees that he is right. She must have ripped them while struggling under the Cruciatus. "Bellatrix…" She trails off, clenching her eyes shut. Her voice sounds small and weak to her ears and her throat is parched with thirst from the effort of speech. What has happened to Ron and Harry?

"No need to say more," Snape says. He rises to his feet and leaves the room. Hermione slumps forward until her head touches her knees. She wants nothing more than to sleep for days, but the lingering pain in her limbs doesn't seem likely to let her. She wonders if Ron and Harry hate her for abandoning them in their moment of need. She hates herself.

She moans when she sees Snape's shiny black boots in front of her.

"I need to get back," she says, standing up. She ignores the wobble in her step, pushing forward. Her only thought is for her friends and whatever trouble they must be in.

But Snape stops her, taking her firmly by the shoulder. "There is time enough for that later. For now, you need your rest."

"B-but—"

"But you will arrive at the same moment if you go now or if you go later. The only difference is that fully rested you might actually accomplish something."

Hermione doesn't say anything, struggling only slightly against his firm grip.

Snape leans in and says quietly, "Besides the Dark Lord would have been triumphant recently if Potter had been caught and instead he has just been increasingly angry with Lucius and Bellatrix. What does that tell you?"

She collapses against him in relief. It was the question she was too frightened to ask. His arms encircle her and hold her close. She feels safe and warm in his embrace, and he smells just as she remembers his younger self. After a few long moments, he releases her and leads her to the bed.

Once she lies down, he hands her a vial and tells her to drink it. "It will help with the lingering effects of the curse," he says.

It tastes bitter, but Hermione chokes it down. Handing back the vial, she whispers a thank you. Already the potion is taking its effect. She can feel her muscles relaxing and her eyes feel leaden. She hears Snape move away from her and reaching out her hand, she grabs for his before he can go.

"Stay with me," she says.

"I have things to do, Miss Granger," he says sharply. Maybe if she was fully awake, Hermione would have taken his hint and let him go, but with what she has been through today she doesn't want to be left alone, so she persists.

"Please," she whines. And then she reminds him of the day when she found him near death, "I stayed with you."

"You've never stayed," he snaps, pulling his hand from her grasp.

She has no answer for that. He is right of course, so she resorts to more pleading. "Please."

"Why must you be so burdensome?" he asks, but he sits down on the bed and she can hear him reaching down and unlacing his boots. She smiles in triumph and runs her hand down his arm. He scowls as he lies down and pulls the coverlet over them both. Hermione sighs as he pulls her close. She can feel his nose on her neck and hear him as he inhales deeply. She reaches for the hand resting near her stomach and intertwines their fingers.

"Thank you," she says again as she drifts into a deep sleep.

* * *

She wakes hours later. The room has grown dark and she struggles out from under the bed covers and hurries to the loo. The potion Snape gave her has worked, but she still feels stiff in a few places. She flexes her muscles and then conjures a toothbrush, squeezing the last bit out of Snape's tube of toothpaste. The small clock on the wall ticks, telling her it is the middle of the night – 3am.

She hurries back to bed, only to find that Snape has flopped over into her space while she was gone. She hesitates to wake him so she resorts to a few gentle pokes and then a few not so gentle pokes to get him to move. He finally rolls over with a moan, his eyes opening as he does so that he can glare at her.

"You left," he accuses her. "You're always leaving me." His voice is thick with sleep. Hermione crawls back under the sheets and nestles close to his side, throwing her arm across his chest.

"I'm back now," she whispers.

He strokes her hair and says, "Yes, you are. How are you feeling?"

"Still a little sore, but much better than before Thank you." She turns her face towards his. A sliver of moonlight is all that illuminates it, but she can make out the hint of a smile on his lips.

He hesitates and then he kisses her cheek. Then the tip of her nose and the corner of her mouth before finally coming to rest fully on her lips. She lets him and with very little coaxing on his part, she kisses him back. She is beyond reminding herself that this is breaking the rules. Since she first lied about that troll in the bathroom, Hermione Granger, has chosen which rules she will follow, even ones she has set for herself. Hasn't she proven that by breaking this very rule before by the lake? And in his quarters at Hogwarts?

He rolls her underneath him and soon the snogging progresses to something else entirely. Like that day on his couch, she finds herself without her shirt and his hands hypnotically stroking her sides, except that this time he pauses.

"How old are you?" he asks suddenly.

"Eighteen."

"Good," he says and then he kisses her again, a long intense kiss that leaves her gasping for air.

"You're not going to tell me to stop this time?" he asks when he finally releases her mouth, his hands caressing her breasts. She impatiently pulls at the buttons on his shirt.

"I'd prefer if you didn't," she says.

"Didn't?" He pauses his attentions for a moment.

"Didn't stop," she says impatiently. "As in keep going…please."

He chuckles, a low sound in the back of his throat, and proceeds to nibble her ear. From there it is like a dream. Hermione stops worrying about Harry, Ron, Voldemort, and the war. There is only flesh pressed against flesh, whispered words of comfort as Severus presses into her for the first time, and a feeling of awe as she watches his face. All of the worry and hatred that normally line his face fades away for a few brief moments. The fine lines around his eyes soften and his lips curl up into almost a smile.

"I have waited much too long for this," he says to her neck when he finally catches his breath. She rubs her hands up his back and into his hair.

A happy giggle bubbles to the surface. She didn't know it until now but she has been waiting for this moment as well. "And how was it?" she asks.

He lifts his head to gaze down on her. His expression is not one she has seen on this older Severus. It reminds her of the happy times they spent by the lake at Hogwarts. "It was bloody fantastic." He grabs her suddenly and rolls over, pulling her on top of him. She squeals in surprise. "And I don't want to wait another twenty years for the next time," he says, pulling her in for another kiss.

"Then don't," she says saucily.

* * *

"You lied to me," he whispers into her hair later as they relax in each others arms.

"I did?" she asks, furrowing her brow. She doesn't know what he means. Shifting so she can turn and look at his face, she can see no malice in his eyes.

"You said one day we would be friends out in the open," he says.

"There is still time." She draws her finger across his lips and then leans in for a quick kiss.

"There is never enough time, Hermione," he says with sadness she has never heard before from him. He pulls her close and buries his head in her neck. She returns the embrace.

After a long moment, he pushes her away. "There are two potions in the bathroom. You should take them and then go." He throws back the covers and gets out of bed, shuffling to the small kitchenette to make tea.

"Can I at least have breakfast first?" she asks. She is surprised at his sudden coldness, although she shouldn't be. He grunts his consent and then tells her gruffly to take her potions.

With a frown, she goes into the bathroom. There on the counter are the two potions he mentioned. She quickly downs them and joins Severus in the small kitchen.

"Did you take them?" he asks.

She nods. "What were they?"

"You don't know?"

"I haven't had Potions this year and you only let me ask one question each time," she snipes.

Snape smirks. "The blue was for aches and pains. It was the same thing I gave you last night."

"And the other?"

"A contraception potion," he answers.

Hermione furrows her brow. They studied contraception potions in the short sex ed class that Madame Pomfrey taught in their fifth year, but this potion didn't look like the one she had learned.

"It's not as well known," he told her. "It's especially suited for…the first time." She smiles at the color that creeps into his cheeks. "I hope it wasn't too uncomfortable for you last night," he says.

"It was wonderful," she says. She reaches out and lays her hand over his to reassure him.

He nods his head and then pulls his hand away. Getting up, he puts his teacup in the sink. "You need to leave," he tells her. She can't see his face, but she can hear the pain in his voice. She feels it too, deep inside of her. It isn't as sharp as the pain Bellatrix inflicted on her. It is more of a dull ache, but she knows it will last much longer.

"I—"

"Go, Hermione," he says.

She finds her clothes and retrieves her Time Turner. When she is finally ready, she finds Snape still at the sink. Tentatively, gently, she leans up and places a kiss on his cheek.

"Until next time," she whispers. He grabs her by the shoulders and shakes her.

"They won't be a next time," he says sharply. "There can't be a next time."

"But why not?" she asks. Tears spring her eyes. She hasn't expected this rejection from him.

"You belong with Weasley and I belong in—" he stops. Letting her go, he turns back to the sink. "Just leave." His voice sounds hoarse, almost as though he is holding back tears of his own.

"Belong where? Where do you belong?" she asks. She puts her hand on his arm, but he shrugs it away.

"I won't survive this war, Hermione," he tells her.

"You don't know that!"

He turns to face her finally. "Yes, I do."

"Then we'll change it," she says, holding out the Time Turner. "We can stop it from happening."

"You, stupid girl," he says. She can hear both the affection and the frustration in his voice. "How many times do I have to tell you that you can't change anything with that thing."

"But we have to try," she says.

"I wouldn't change it even if I could," he says. Then he leans down and kisses her on the forehead. Before she can protest, he picks up the Time Turner where it lays on its chain and gives it a turn and then Hermione is spinning through time.

* * *

Hermione arrives back in the middle of the fray. Curses fly across the room. People are shouting and Harry is wrestling with Draco. By some miracle they are able to escape. They make it to Bill and Fleur's small cottage. It reminds her of Severus' small home, but most everything reminds her of Severus these days. She longs to visit him again, but Ron, worried about her health, hovers over her and she finds she had no time to herself to slip away.

When she does finally manage it, she finds herself with a younger Severus, Severus in his third year whom she helps with his Charms homework. And finally, her last visit with him in his seventh.

"You don't have to go, you know," he says to her when she reaches for her Time Turner. They have been dancing around the topic of this being her last visit the entire two hours she has been here. But now she meets it head on.

"We will see each other again," she promises him. "And in the meantime, be careful of false promises, Severus."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"It means that if something sounds too good to be true then it probably is, and—" she pauses. Professor Snape's words about it not mattering what she did, the past would unfold with or without her interference in the much the same way it already had. "Please and try to remember the rules." She fakes an air of exasperation. Severus smiles at her, rolling his eyes at the same time.

She leans in and kisses him on the corner of his mouth. "Remember to choose love, always love," she whispers in his ear.

He holds her tightly to him. "I love you," he says desperately.

"Then remember that," she says. Then she reaches for her Time Turner and disappears.

* * *

When Hermione finally tells Harry the location of the last Horcrux she is not surprised that he refuses any additional help.

"We've done fine so far, Hermione," he argues.

"It's heavily protected, Harry. Please won't you consider asking for help, Remus or Bill? Anyone?" she counters. He promises to think about it, but in the end he refuses to put anyone else in danger.

When they get to the ruined castle, they find the protections Severus had warned her about – an army of Inferi. They are quiet, allowing the three of them to approach the diadem of Rowena Ravenclaw without incident, but the moment Harry touches it, they spring into life. Ron and Hermione try to fight them back, but they advance closer and closer, threatening to overwhelm them. Hermione conjures a ring of fire that surrounds them in the hope that it will be enough to keep them away, but it has only a marginal effect.

"I need your help," Harry yells. Ron turns and casts the spell to destroy the Horcrux. It leaves Hermione on her own. They are getting closer and closer. She tries to count how many there are but loses count as she throws curse after curse.

"Hermione!" Harry yells for her to join them. With one last look at the advancing army, she sees him. It's Severus. He has come to help.

"Is that Snape?" Ron asks. He looks at Hermione. Sweat is pouring off his brow and he looks pained from the effort of trying to destroy the diadem.

"He won't stop us!" Harry yells. The beam of light shooting out of his wand grows brighter.

"He's helping us!" she cries. She turns to add her wand in the onslaught against the Horcrux but she keeps one eye focused on where she can see Severus.

From the corner of her eye she can also see her parents. They are being tortured. Lucius Malfoy stands over them while they writhe in pain. Why are they here? She has hidden them in Australia. But maybe Voldemort has found them. Maybe Snape hasn't really been her friend but has used to her to spy on Harry. He was the one that told her where to find the Horcrux, wasn't he? It was all a trap. She shifts her gaze to find him, to find the traitor.

What she sees is not good. He has succeeded in drawing most of the Inferi away from the three of them, but his effort to use fire to fight them off is having little effect. She can see less and less of him as they surround him. It is obvious that he hasn't betrayed her after all, but is trying to help. He must have learned of the deception and has come to help stop it.

"They're killing him! And my parents!" she cries. Her wand drops as she turns towards him. She has to help him, he won't survive the onslaught of so many Inferi.

"Hermione! No!" Ron yells. "We need you! She turns back. Harry and Ron are struggling against the Horcrux. It gets closer and closer. The air around them gets darker and darker. The air is thick with the smell of blood and smoke.

"Hermione! Please!" Harry screams. "Whatever it is you see it's a trick!"

She raises her wand and shouts the counter spell. She throws all of her righteous anger, her love for her friends, for her family, and for Severus behind the spell. Immediately the diadem is thrown back. Two grueling minutes later and it is finished. The diadem crashes to the ground smoking.

Hermione turns to see if her visions have disappeared with it. Her mother and father are no longer there, but Severus remains surrounded by Inferi. Flashes of red spark like lightning around him. She rushes towards him, but it is too late. He has fallen to the ground by the time she gets there.

"Help me!" she yells to Harry and Ron. Together they beat back the Inferi. Harry lights another stronger magical fire in a wide circle around them to keep them at bay while Hermione kneels next to Severus to assess the damage. It is bad, very bad. He has a lost a lot of blood and is having trouble breathing.

"Her—mio—nee," he rasps. Tears run down her cheeks.

"What was he thinking?" Harry asks.

"He's on our side," Hermione says. "He always has been. "

"How do you know he wasn't sent here to stop us?" Harry argues.

"Because he's been feeding me information on You Know Who's plans. He's the one that told me that the Horcrux was here. I never would have figured it out on my own. Quick! We need to get him help."

Ron looks confused but he nods and sends a Patronus to Lupin and the others.

"Too late," Severus says from below her.

She turns back to him, taking his hand in hers. It is burned and bloody. "Don't say that. Don't you dare say that! Help is on the way."

He squeezes her hand weakly. "Nagini is all that's left now. Potter must…" He breaks off in a spasm of coughing.

She waits for it to subside and then she cups his cheek with her free hand, looking him in the eye. "Thank you. We couldn't have done it without you," she tells him quietly.

"For you," he whispers. She has to lean her head down closer to hear him. "It was always for you." The grip on her hand lessens. Hermione looks at him with increasing alarm. His eyes are losing their focus.

"Severus, no!" she whispers fiercely. "I—I love you. Don't leave me!"

"Holly…" And then there is no more. His hand goes slack and his eyes see no more. Hermione collapses on his chest and sobs. It is only the popping sound of Apparition, the arriving of the senior Order members, and Ron's hand on her shoulder that brings her back to herself.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Seven

**Part Six**

_Time is free, but it's priceless.  
Once you've lost it, you can never get it back._  
Harvey MacKay

The next hours are a blur. Someone pulls her away. They ask her questions. She tells them what she told Ron and Harry—Severus Snape had been passing her secret information about Voldemort's movements.

"He was a hero," she chokes out.

Remus nods in agreement, patting her on the back. He hands her off to Bill Weasley who takes her and the two boys back to his house.

The next day she sits in the bedroom, staring out the window at the gray clouds and thick fog that seem to mimic her mood, when she feels a hand on her shoulder.

"Hermione." She looks up to see Ron. "Are you okay?"

She shakes her head. "Not really."

"I—I wanted to ask you about…" She waits for him to finish. "Yesterday with Snape, it just seemed that it was…more."

Hermione stares at her hands, fisted in her lap. "It was," she whispered. A rogue tear slips down her cheeks. She has cried all night but there are still tears left apparently.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

She looks at him, trying to determine if he is really serious. His face is red with embarrassment. This can't be easy for him. She knows he has feelings for her. She has feelings for him, mixed up though they may be with her feelings for Severus. His willingness to put them aside makes her love him a little more.

She nods as more tears stream down her cheeks. He puts his arm around her and pulls her closer. Over the next hour she pours out the whole story. She starts at the very beginning and doesn't finish until the day before. The only thing she glosses over is her most recent encounter with Severus in his run-down cottage.

"Oh, Hermione," he says when she finishes. "You can't fix everything."

"I know," she says. But secretly it gives her an idea.

* * *

She has to convince him not to come. Using her Time Turner, she goes back in time again, this time to right before Severus leaves to help them at the ruins of Rowena Ravenclaw ancient castle home. She takes a big breath and turns the small hour glass.

She arrives in Severus' small cottage feeling sick to her stomach, but she tries to tamp down the nausea. There is no time to delay, but it doesn't matter. She gets the briefest of glimpses of his long black coat before she hears the loud pop of his Apparation. It is not just the time travel that makes her sick at her stomach now. Frantically, with desperate hope, she checks the calendar on his wall and then the clock.

She has the right day but she has missed him by mere seconds. He is still dead.

She only waits until the next day to try again because the nausea from multiple trips in one day is too much for her to handle. This time, she lands outside on her knees. She jumps up, ignoring her protesting stomach, and peers through the window. She hears the pop of Apparation and she sees herself standing in the middle of the room, looking bereft. She stands, her hands pressed against the glass of the window, watching her other self check the calendar and the time. He is still dead.

* * *

She tries again and again, day after day. But each time she arrives a little later than the last time. It's like looking in a three-way mirror. She can see her past self looking at another past self looking at another past self who is looking at the last glimpse of the man she loves.

She spends an hour after each trip sobbing into her pillow. Harry asks her what is the matter, but she waves him away. Ron doesn't say anything but brings her tea with a pained look in his eye.

Almost a week goes by before he finally speaks up. He sets down the tea service with a bang. "This has to stop, Hermione," he says.

She wipes at her eyes and takes out her handkerchief. "I know," she says forlornly. All the crying is making Harry suspicious. She needs to get a hold of her emotions. Severus would be ashamed to see her like this.

But Ron doesn't accept this answer. "No, I mean you need to give me your Time Turner," he says. He holds out his hand.

"What?"

"Didn't Snape say that what's happened has happened? That it will happen? You tried to change the past before and ended up creating the present you already lived in. Nothing you have done has changed the future! You are just distracting yourself from the real purpose of all this – to defeat You Know Who!"

"B-but…"

"No, Hermione. We can't do this without you. We can't. And you can't help us if you are spending your time going between traveling in time and sobbing your eyes out."

"Is that what you think? That it doesn't matter what we do? That the future is already decided? If that's the case it doesn't matter if I cry myself to sleep every night, does it? I don't know why you care," she screeches at him. All of her anger and grief is bubbling up to the surface. She has tried to keep control, but there is very little left in her.

"No, I think the past is decided!" Ron counters. "And the future will only get here if we keep moving forward. And you aren't moving forward, Hermione. You're moving backwards!"

"He didn't have to die!" She collapses into tears again.

Ron takes her in his arms. "But he did. And you can't change that. Just like you can't change the fact that he became a Death Eater."

"I know," she whispers into his chest. "I just have to try one more time."

Ron nods. She loves him for understanding why she has to do this. "One more time," he says.

They stand there together in silence for a long time. "I'm so sorry," she says quietly.

"It's okay," he says, taking her hand in his. It feels nice, she realizes, very nice. "I left you guys in a lurch. It was your turn to have a bit of second guessing."

* * *

She tries one last time to save Severus from himself and from her. And once again she is hopelessly disappointed.

There are seven other Hermiones ahead of her, and she hopes that they won't see her. But then she realizes that they won't turn around because she doesn't remember seeing a future self. She has been so concentrated on her past failures that it never occurs to her to turn around and see that she will fail time and time again.

Severus is right. What is done is done. They can't change time. They never could. She was a fool for believing that she could. He is still dead. And it is her fault.

After one last look, she returns to her own time.

Ron is waiting for her. She takes the small hourglass from around her neck and drops it into his waiting hand. She stares after it, feeling as though a part of her very being is being torn from her. It takes everything in her not to grab it back again.

"What if I went back to the ruins?" she asks, grasping at straws. "I could fight with him against the Inferi."

"And risk being seen by one of us? No, Hermione," Ron says firmly. "Do you remember seeing another you there then?"

Hermione shakes her head. She watches the Time Turner swing on its chain, cradled in his hand.

"Then that means you won't go back. You can't go back. We need you here and now. No more time travel."

"I don't know what else to do," she says.

"Keep fighting."

Hermione nods. She knows he is right, but why must it be so hard? Why did Severus have to die? Why did she ever think that time travel was a good idea?

Ron changes the subject. "Do you really think the future is decided already?" he asks as he locks the time turner away.

She swallows the lump in her throat. "That's what Severus thought," she says. She pauses, remembering the way he argued that she couldn't change the things that had already happen in his past and her future. "He didn't seem too pessimistic about it though. I think he was convinced we would win…eventually."

"Convinced enough to come after us," Ron says.

Hermione can only nod. She doesn't want to start crying again. The time for tears is over.

"He really did care for you," he says, almost to himself, in awe of Snape's devotion to her.

"He did," she says. "But what kind of life might he have had if I hadn't interfered. He might still be alive."

"You may be right, but most likely he still would have joined the Death Eaters, except with no reason to come back. And without him as a spy, without him feeding you information then we would be a lot worse off. He's won this war for us."

"We haven't won yet, Ronald," she reminds him.

He smiles. "No, but we will. We already have, haven't we?"

Hermione laughs, it's brittle but it's better than tears. "I don't know, the whole thing makes my head hurt."

He laughs with her. "Mine too," he says. "Mine too."

* * *

They do win the war. And two days after Harry defeats Tom Riddle Ron proposes to Hermione. She accepts. Three months later, she stands in a small room in Hogwarts, dressed in all white, waiting for the ceremony to start. She is nervous and happy and sad all at the same time. She has shooed all the women, mainly Molly, Ginny, and Minerva away so she can have a moment to collect herself.

It is then that he appears – Severus Snape at her wedding. He looks around confused, becoming more so when he sees her dress. At first, she thinks he is an imposter. A Death Eater who has hasn't yet been caught, but then he speaks and she knows it is him.

"Miss Granger?"

She throws herself at him and he catches her in his arms at the very last moment. She hugs his neck fiercely, trying to understand how he is here when she saw him fall in battle not ten months before.

"How? How is this possible?"

He holds up the familiar Time Turner for her to see and she gasps. "I suppose this means I am deceased in this time," he says sardonically. Tears slip down her cheeks and she nods.

He wipes the tears from her cheeks with his thumb. "You're going to mess up your make-up," he says softly.

"It doesn't matter," she says. She chokes back a sob. It is hard seeing him here. She still isn't over him completely.

"How?" he asks.

"In battle. You helped us piece together the whereabouts of the last Horcrux. We went to destroy it, but—" He reaches out and takes her hand in his, holding it to his chest. It calms her enough to continue. "But there was an army of Inferi guarding it along with several other tricky charms. You had told me on a trip to the future that we would run into trouble, that we should wait, but Harry couldn't be convinced. Somehow, you knew to be there—" She stops short, realizing what she has just said.

"I knew because you've just told me." He says what she is thinking. She goes into his arms again and he holds her tight.

"You would die for me?" she whispers into his chest.

Looking down at her, he tips up her chin with one finger so he can see her face. With a solemn seriousness she has never seen in him, he nods. "Hermione, I already have."

"When? When are you from?"

"The day I told you that you were the reason I joined the Dark Lord."

She nods, understanding now his sudden agreeableness to her plan when he returned from the future. He had to see that it would work before he would agree to it.

"What I won't tell you when I get back is that you were also the reason I came back. I loved Holly and since she trusted Dumbledore, then so could I," he murmurs in her hair.

"We couldn't have survived it without you. You won this war for us," she tells him in a wavering voice. "I—I miss you so much. I wish you hadn't done it." He pushes back, his fingers gripping her shoulders tightly.

"Weasley?" he asks. Hermione nods. She thinks of Ron standing in the Great Hall in ill fitting dress robes and grinning like he just won the Quidditch Cup. The thought makes her smile – a smile that Severus catches. "He's a lucky man to have you. You look beautiful."

"Thank you," she says shyly. "Severus, I—"

"Don't, Hermione." She can only nod. Whatever words she might have said are stuck in her throat anyway. Her mouth feels like sandpaper. Everything she has practiced saying, has wanted to say evaporated in his presence.

He presses a soft kiss to her forehead and hugs her again, then he clears his throat, serious and imposing once more. "I should go." Before she can protest, before she can say a word to make him stay, to tell him that she loved him, that she wishes things were different, to tell him to sod time and its restraints, he turns the hourglass and disappears. She suddenly knows what it has been like for him all these years and she wishes she could tell him she is sorry. Somehow, though she thinks he wouldn't listen to her apologies.

Hermione wipes the tears from her cheeks and takes a deep breath, then closes her hand around the door handle and goes out to be married.

Time marches on. She moves forward.

The End.

A/N: A lot of you won't like the ending, but if you have read Time Traveller's Wife then you will understand that I have kept true to the concepts of time travel laid out in that story as well as it's overall mood. I hope you've enjoyed it. Please leave me a review letting me know what you think. And if you need a pick me up after this check out my story Two Weeks Notice or Houdini's Tables. Vanityfair


End file.
